


what's the harm in a little more breakage?

by escapismandsharpobjects



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, I still haven't learned how to tag I'm sorry, Malcolm Bright Needs a Hug, Posting an old work again, there we go that's enough tags, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:21:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22472512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escapismandsharpobjects/pseuds/escapismandsharpobjects
Summary: “What’s wrong, kid?”What he wants to say is, “Absolutely everything is wrong and I don’t know how to fix it and I thought I would be fine on my own, but I’m not, and could you help me, please?”But instead, he says, “Nothing. Nothing, I’m good.”
Relationships: Gil Arroyo & Malcolm Bright
Comments: 16
Kudos: 110





	what's the harm in a little more breakage?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I wrote this about a month ago and I feel like it kind of fits with the most recent episode, so I figured I'd post it!! Originally this had absolutely zero context, but now I imagine it as a slight alternate ending to 1x12. Please let me know if it sucks/what you think!!

“What’s wrong, kid?”

What he wants to say is, “Absolutely everything is wrong and I don’t know how to fix it and I thought I would be fine on my own, but I’m not, and could you help me, please?” 

But instead, he says, “Nothing. Nothing, I’m good.”

Nothing could be farther from the truth, and somewhere in the back of his mind he knows that they both know it-the question is now, who is going to be the first to say it?

It’s Gil, of course it’s him, and he says it in a no-nonsense tone that still manages to be comforting-“you’re not, Malcolm, you’re really not.”

_Just say it,_ he thinks to himself, _say it. How hard is it to say three little words?_

But three words can be hard enough to say when you really don’t want to say them, so he sits in silence for a moment, steeling himself for a couple seconds of raw honesty. 

Finally, he takes a deep breath and lets go. “No, I’m not.”

Gil nods, like this is all good and normal and Malcolm has just informed him of the weather, and not at all as though Malcolm has let him in when it’s clearly the last thing he wants to do. 

That’s comforting, somehow. Gil not treating it like a big deal. Because it’s not, he reassures himself, it’s really not. Sure, he’s not okay, but that can mean any number of things. Gil doesn’t necessarily need to know just how deep that ‘not okay’ runs. 

They sit there in silence for a bit, and Malcolm realises he doesn’t feel relieved, which is how he imagines he’s supposed to feel. _You haven’t let him in enough,_ a voice at the back of his mind insists. _Gil doesn’t **really** know, and he needs to. _

_He **doesn’t** need to, _Malcolm argues against himself. _Nobody_ needs to. But that nagging voice wins him over somehow, and he finds himself almost unconsciously pressing himself into Gil’s side as he whispers, “I’m really, really not fine.”

“I know, kid, I know,” Gil says softly, running a hand through Malcolm’s hair. “Want to talk about it?” he adds after a moment, slightly uncertain as to whether that’s the right thing to ask.

Malcolm considers this for a bit before carefully shaking his head. Maybe later, he thinks, but for now, this is enough. Just letting someone in. 

Gil’s arm moves from atop Malcolm’s head and wraps itself around his torso instead, securing him firmly to the earth, which Malcolm finds himself suddenly extremely grateful for, because he feels like he’s about to fall away, which shouldn’t really be possible, shouldn’t he feel more grounded now that he’s finally made his confession? His mind’s logic thinks so, and yet he feels frantic in this new situation. 

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, you’re okay,” Gil says softly, urgently, and Malcolm comes to the realisation that he’s on the verge of panic and tries as best as he can to calm himself down, succeeding only mildly. 

It all feels like too much, like he’s being pulled in a million different directions-up, down, away from Gil, towards Gil, and he becomes very aware of the fact that he can’t undo this night, can’t take back what he’s said or what he’s going to say later. And he’s already come this far, and he’s already so far past breaking that he’s come full circle and is about to break again, so what’s the harm in a little _more_ breakage?

There’s no harm, he figures, and once again lets go, until he’s sobbing deep, jagged breaths that feel like they’re being torn out of him, and he’s distantly aware that Gil is hugging him, wrapping him securely in his arms, and Malcolm grabs fiercely onto the back of Gil’s shirt, pulling Gil even closer to anchor himself. 

He doesn’t know how much time passes, only that eventually, he simply runs out of tears to cry. He slumps bonelessly into Gil and mumbles a soft “sorry” that earns him a gentle smack on the head and a sharp, “You have nothing to apologise for,” that he can’t quite bring himself to believe.

Gil gently releases Malcolm and wipes a last tear from his face. “You’re gonna be okay, kid,” he says, and Malcolm’s not sure whether it’s his unflinching trust in Gil or if he’s just too exhausted to question it, but he finds himself accepting this ultimatum, finds himself nodding, though he isn’t entirely sure why. He’s going to be okay. He’s going to be okay. _He’s going to be okay._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! I hope this wasn't too bad and that you enjoyed it! Feel free to let me know what you think!


End file.
